


Homewrecking, Alaskan style

by Arlenes_family_fun (Arlene0401)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alaska, Alaska state trooper Levi, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Don't copy to another site, Inspired by Real Events, M/M, Rescue Missions, homesteader Eren Yeager
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:30:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22772110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlene0401/pseuds/Arlenes_family_fun
Summary: When your employer's publications are notoriously ornate and you don't have that many facts to tell... it can happen that both your dormant romance novelist talent and your secretly harboured feelings are happy to fill in the gaps.
Relationships: Levi/Eren Yeager
Comments: 7
Kudos: 54





	Homewrecking, Alaskan style

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dinklebert](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinklebert/gifts).

> Happy birthday, dear Jay! Your request of "anything with Levi" is hopefully fulfilled hurrhurr
> 
> Oh, and if you're someone who's trying to access this from "fanfic pocket library" or another app that monetizes the Archive's hard work: get out of my face.

“Looks like this guy’s friends were spot on with their hunch that something wasn’t right,” Sasha said as she swerved the plot. Levi leaned forward to get a better look. The clearing was littered with debris covered with several feet of snow, and a huge SOS sign was carved into the white surface. A man stood next to it, waving enthusiastically at the approaching helicopter. How long, Levi wondered while Sasha circled the clearing again and Gabi filmed everything, had this man been waiting and hoping for rescue? When had he first heard the aircraft in the clear winter air, left his shelter and scanned the sky for them? Suddenly, he was glad he had joined in on what seemed like just another boring welfare check on a homesteader.

Following Gabi’s directions to a safe landing spot, Sasha let the helicopter kiss the ground, whipping up clouds of powder snow. Levi always enjoyed the way the pilot and tactical flight officer seamlessly worked together. It put his flight-hating mind at ease.

Sasha killed the engine, and they took off their headsets. The silence that settled on them felt surreal after the hubbub of Anchorage and the continuous noise of the flight. Only a few minutes ticked by until they saw the man emerge from a line of trees and struggle towards them.

Levi opened the sliding door and gingerly stepped outside, only to sink hip deep into the snow. He cursed and chose to ignore the cackling from the cockpit. Okay. Going to meet their welfare subject halfway was not going to happen. The man’s determined steps seemed to suggest he didn’t expect a welcome committee anyway. Levi could make out incredibly grubby coveralls and a battered ushanka. Backpack. No gloves.

The first thing that struck Levi when the man finally came to a halt were his eyes. Vividly green, they expressed a mixture of relief and weariness. Dust and ashes had settled in the worry lines on his face. Matted, tangled hair sprouted from underneath the hat. An untrimmed beard covered chin and neck.

The second thing that struck him was the smell. He couldn’t help but recoil at the aroma of burned plastic, sweat, grime and unwashed body.

“God, I can’t believe someone came for me. When I heard the chopper and saw you I nearly bawled.” The man held out a grimy hand, and Levi shook it, glad for his thick winter gloves.

“I assume you’re Mr Jaeger? A couple of your friends in Skwentna were worried when they couldn’t contact you. Asked us to come out and check. What happened?”

“My cabin burned down.” Jaeger gestured to the treeline behind him. “My phone burned too so I couldn’t call for help. You won’t believe how glad I am that someone came. Although I probably don’t look like it.”

Levi recalled the amount of snow on the ruins of the cabin. “When did that happen?”

“Not sure.” Jaeger scratched his gruffy beard thoughtfully. “December 17th or 18th. What day is it today?”

“December 17th? Jesus. It’s January 9th. That’s… 22, 23 days you were without a roof?”

Sasha and Gabi, having eavesdropped, scrambled out of the helicopter. “23 days in the wild? God, you must be starving.” Sasha fished a chocolate bar from one of her pockets. Jaeger stared at it like a Fata Morgana. “Bless you.” He ripped the wrapper off and wolfed the bar in two bites. Suddenly remembering his manners, he attempted to wipe his hand on the leg of his greasy coveralls and offered it to the two women.

“Eren Jaeger, ex homesteader. And you guys are…?”

Learning they were state trooper Levi Ackerman, pilot Sasha Blouse and tactical flight officer Gabi Braun, he smiled at each of them, the numbness slowly making place to real joy upon being rescued.

“Can we get anything from your cabin for you? We have plenty of space for your belongings.” Levi dreaded having to cart heavy gear through the snow but wanted to offer anyway.

“Everything I could salvage is in my backpack,” Eren answered, his eyes suddenly clouding over. He turned his face away, blinking, and Levi had to keep himself in check to not openly ogle his profile in the pale winter sunlight. How could someone so filthy and unkempt be so attractive at the same time?

During the flight back to Lake Hood, conversation was sparse. Eren stared at the landscape that unrolled beneath them, lost in thought. Levi did his best to follow suit and not stare at the red highlights that the sun conjured in his auburn beard.

After landing, Sasha and Gabi bid farewell and wished Eren luck, then it was left to Levi to lead him inside. “So, what can we set you up with? Shower, food, telephone?”

“Yes please, in that order,” Eren beamed, and Levi chuckled. “I could murder to get out of these stinking rags.” Asked for food, he didn’t have to think long. “Could you get me a Big Mac combo meal? That’s been haunting my dreams for literal weeks.”

A quick fund-raising campaign among the troopers provided Eren with underwear, a pair of too short sweatpants (Levi’s) and a too large woolen sweater (Sergeant Smith’s). The required food stood in the cafeteria when he finally exited the showers, obviously reveling in feeling warmed and clean. Without the weeks old layers of dirt, his hair mostly untangled and a lot more glossy, he looked even more handsome.

Levi sat opposite of the Eren’s laid out place, a mug of tea, notepad and voice recorder in reach. Much to his surprise, Eren grasped his right hand in both his own and held it tightly. “Thank you. You’re a literal angel.” His palms were calloused and rough, soot still discoloring the nail beds and the cracks in the dry skin.

Levi mumbled something about common decency, and Eren let it slide with a smile and a final squeeze of his fingers. Then he shoveled unholy amounts of sugar and creamer into his large coffee and started digging into his fries.

“Do you mind if we talk a bit while you eat? I’ll need to file in my report.” Levi indicated to the voice recorder and uncapped his pen.

“Sure. Haven’t had anyone to talk to in a while.”

While Eren retold his adventure, Levi was glad for the voice recorder. He did listen, yes, but he was a little too enraptured by the story teller. Not a single strand of chestnut hair, not a single laugh line around his eyes, not a single crooked smile escaped his notice.

Eren was from Utah, and had moved to the cabin he’d bought from a Vietnam vet only in September. But despite being a cheechako, and having gained most of his knowledge from YouTube tutorials, he had proven to adapt quite well.

Still, he had made a series of typical beginner’s mistakes - brought a phone that didn’t charge properly, was sloppy in regularly updating friends and family, relied on his own skills alone. He’d brought a dog along with him, and Levi already knew what was coming, was prepared for the tears, but even so the abyss of guilt and anguish he caught a short glimpse of was daunting.

Never in his life had he so desperately wanted to hold and comfort someone. He reached out and gently placed his hand on Eren’s fist that was bunching up a paper napkin so tightly his knuckles had turned white.

A simple, comforting gesture, but it was enough to ease Eren’s tension. He took a couple of shaky inhales, wiped his eyes and continued.

He had hastily kindled a fire in the woodstove, against his better judgement. Too tired, too impatient to follow his well trained routine. The rest was a chain reaction. A cabin that was composed mostly of plastic. Hundreds of rounds of ammunition, a stock of cooking oil, boom. A mostly unharmed survivor without a phone, without any means of transport but his own feet, any human creature a minimum of twenty miles away.

Some few precious, salvaged sleeping bags and blankets, a little half burned, half frozen food. Boots, long johns, no socks, a mouldy coverall. That and his hope was enough to get by for 23 days and nights.

And here he was.

Almost against his will, Levi was in awe of Eren’s resourcefulness and determination that had kept him going, first in a snow cave, then in a makeshift shelter from the ruins of his cabin.

“What are your plans now?”

Eren shrugged, licking the last traces of salt and grease from his fingers. He’d go back to Utah for a while, lick his wounds, get himself some fuzz therapy from the family dogs. But he would come back. Determination blazed in his eyes. Levi ventured that Eren Jaeger was not done with the bush yet.

Soon, too soon, their shared dinner drew to an end, and Levi had to see his guest off, however heavy it made his heart. Inexplicably so. Levi Ackerman, state trooper, did not fall for presumably straight guys. And he definitely did not fall for guys who would go back outside and most likely never return. Guys who would most definitely not be thinking of Levi once they had turned their back to him.

The meltdown he experienced upon learning that he not only had to hand in his report but write the whole goddamn media publication was a welcome distraction. So be it. He knew the regular troopers publications, he could do this. He’d stick mostly to the transcript of Eren’s statement, slap on some facts and wrap it up in a narrative, bingo.

What he failed to realise was that his secretly harboured weakness for Harlequin romance would very very blatantly shine through for the schooled reader.

*********

“Ooooh, so _his hands were calloused, rough, and ash-tainted_,” Gabi recited dramatically, accompanied by Sasha’s maniacal giggles. “And how would you determine if they were rough, hmmm?”

“Shuddup.” Levi’s arms covered his head, but they offered zero protection from the mocking. “My favorite part is where he _chokes up slightly, his eyes misting_. Yes I know it’s mean, his dog died tragically, but this line here is romance novel material. Levi, you really chose the wrong path of profession.” Sasha shook her head, still laughing.

“I hate you. No, I hate myself. No, I hate Sergeant Smith who made me write this fucking thing and signed it off as suitable for publication. I’m the butt of every joke, the state troopers‘ wannabe novelist.” Ever since the story hit the news, the media went crazy. TV stations, newspapers, radio, online magazines, social media. Eren’s family home in Utah was positively sieged, as well as the state troopers post in Anchorage. Everyone wanted a piece of the valiant survivor and his even more valiant rescuers. In vain Levi argued that Sasha and Gabi were in this to the same degree as himself.

Finally having shooed the menaces away, Levi glared daggers at everyone in the vicinity to keep them from opening their mouths. He would only succeed for an hour or so, but every reprieve was heaven.

The phone on his desk rang, and he sighed. With luck, the call would mean work.

“Hello?”

“So I hear that I have _shoulder-length hair, chestnut brown near the roots fading to golden blond near its frayed tips_?” A vaguely familiar voice reached his ear, soft and amused. “And that this and my _auburn beard_ makes me _seem vaguely reminiscent of actor Tom Hanks’ character in the movie “Cast Away”_? Gee thanks, that’s the nicest things anyone’s ever said about me.”

“Oh, it’s you,” was Levi’s lame response. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know. It’s a bit crazy right now. But at least it’s good for something? There’s actually folks who want to fund my return to Alaska. Maybe so I fuck off and don’t besmirch the immaculate snows of Utah.” Eren laughed.

“The Utah state troopers and rangers are as keen on recovering hiker popsicles and mountain cabin mummies as anybody else, to wit not at all. They rather pass the buck to us,“ Levi teased, glad that Eren wasn’t mad at the corny story he’d made of him.

“Frankly, I’m not keen on getting rescued by any of the rangers around here either. I’d rather be damsel in distressing again when I could look forward to you being my knight in shining armor. But really what I’m hoping is to see you again under less dramatic circumstances.”

„Wow,“ was all that Levi managed, which was rather eloquent considering he’d just received the emotional equivalent of a punch in the gut.

Silence crackled through the line for a minute before Levi gathered himself. „Eren, we rescued you from a life or death situation, you were in emotional turmoil, are you sure you’re not just projecting -“

„I’m sure. Of course I’m grateful, but I’m grateful to pilot Blouse and officer Braun and everybody else too without them being on my mind day and night. So I guess I really like you, and it’s not some projection mumbo jumbo. Or did you say that – was that a polite way to turn me down? I had hoped… after what you wrote about me – or maybe I read too much into that?“ Eren’s voice was suddenly very small and insecure.

„No you didn’t,“ Levi said quietly, and he felt his face heat up although Eren couldn’t see him.

„Uh, that’s great, so maybe… when I come back, we could meet in Anchorage, or you could fly up once I’ve rebuilt the cabin. Sorry for asking, but there isn’t a Mrs Ackerman? Or a Mr? Or some tiny Ackermans I should know of? I’m not really into homewrecking.“

„Oh? And here I thought we first met because you did wreck your home.“ Through Eren’s indignant noises, Levi continued: „No, there isn’t anyone. I.. I wouldn’t have said the things I said if there was. No, wait. There is someone.“

„You forgot you have a significant other? How convenient.“

„I forgot him because all he does is sleep and fart. His name is Kenny. I inherited him from my mother. And before you go into cardiac arrest, he’s a dog.“

„A dog! You must bring him with you! It will be so much fun for him in the forest! Oh damn, I have to run, can we talk again some time? Next week?“

„I insist on it.“ They said goodbye, and after hanging up Levi pondered how he could break the news to Eren that his dachshund hated flights, hated the countryside and most of all, hated snow.

**Author's Note:**

> The real story that inspired this ficlet can be found [here](https://dps.alaska.gov/getmedia/4d477f96-1d92-4082-8ec9-76dd97580108/Winter-Fire-Survivor_1-10-2020)
> 
> I took a lot of artistic liberty with the story though - first of all, I do not assume or imply that trooper Marsh harbours any fond feelings for Mr. Steele. The article somehow ended up in my feed and some of trooper Marsh's writing style amused me highly. Not because he writes badly, but it is not what you would necessarily expect from a police publication. Along came the good old "imagine your OTP". There are a lot of other differences too - after all, reality is only an artist's sandbox.
> 
> Text in italics are direct quotes from trooper Marsh's article.
> 
> Cheechako: Alaskan slang for a newcomer, often used in a derogatory form.


End file.
